The Best Deceptions
by whispered touches
Summary: There's always a little truth behind every "just kidding," a little knowledge behind every "I don't know," a little emotion behind every "I don't care," and a little pain behind every "it's okay." Four-shot. LilyJames. RonHermione. RemusTonks. HarryGinny.
1. just kidding

Warning: brief mention of (hypothetical and half-joking) slash. So if you're not into that... leave.

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><p><span>The Best Deceptions<span>

i.  
>(a little truth behind every)<br>"just kidding"

...

Lily's ears are buzzing. Her stomach is churning. She forces a laugh and feels her cheeks fill with color as Sirius calls something inappropriate to her and James, who is trailing behind her out of the common room, reluctant to abandon the nice warm fire and his friends for another night of patrols.

He chuckles for a few yards further, sighs, and shakes his head. Looks sideways at her.

"Er," he says, and it's kind of awkward; he's been trying so hard not to ruin their tentative friendship it's almost painful. "Uh, sorry 'bout him. He can be…" As if she's offended.

Lily gives him a shove in the shoulder and tries to hide her sudden goosebumps at the contact. "You say that like I haven't known Sirius Black for six and a half years."

James shrugs, grinning slightly sheepishly. "Yeah, well," he mutters. "You haven't been hanging around him most of that time, have you?"

With a roll of her eyes: "You don't have to be friends with him to know what he's like, honestly. He's loud and obnoxious enough for the Slytherins to be able to hear him."

"Damn, Evans, that's a pretty long way."

"Good to know you have enough brain cells left to figure that out. And I thought we'd dropped the last names?"

"Depends on my mood."

Their pace begins to slow. They're almost at the other end of the seventh floor, so that none of the empty-classroom-seekers would stumble across them in their haste to find solitude, if any appeared.

They reach a staircase leading to the sixth floor, and stop. Lily realizes that James is giving her _that_ look – the one where the lenses of his glasses glint for a moment in the flickering torchlight and then clear to reveal glittering hazel eyes; the one where it's like he's trying to memorize every detail of her face, as if he'll never get another chance to see it.

She clears her throat and suppresses a blush. "Well, Sirius needs to get his mind out of the gutter, anyway." He still stares at her. She tries for a mischievous grin and says, "I suppose he spends enough time bent over and saying dirty things as it is."

James's laugh, loud and carefree, echoes down the staircase as they step onto it. It's one of the longer ones, spanning between the two topmost floors of the castle, and they have to skip a step and wait for it to groan into a new position before they can continue on.

"What?" says Lily defensively. "Why am I the only one who sees how obvious it is that Remus and Sirius are in love with each other?"

"Because they _aren't_," James says. He's exasperated: They've had this conversation before.

"Of course that's what they would _say_, they don't want anyone to know what goes on in the dorms and broom closets when no one's watching – speaking of, we should probably be checking those –"

_"Lily_._" _She can't help but shiver at the way he says it. "A few things. First – I don't need that mental image in my head, thanks very much. Second – who the hell would want to _watch_? Merlin, there must be something wrong with you…" (She scowls.) "Third – truthfully, I'm a little scared to see what might be in those broom cupboards, so I suggest we stay away from them, all right? And fourth, _Remus and Sirius are both straight_."

"But how do you _know_?"

He snorts. "Please. You underestimate the – what was it? Oh, yeah" – air quotes – "'Black good looks.' We've lost count of how many times Sirius has had a sock on the door –"

"Wow, okay, I did _not_ need to hear that," Lily mutters.

"– and Remus was with us _every_ – _time_."

"Every time?"

"Every time. Well, not _every _time – once the git found some Ravenclaw bird to shag on a full moon."

"Arse."

It leaves her lips before she even thinks about it, before she can even consider that James might take offense on his best mate's behalf. But he laughs again, briefly, throwing his head back, his mouth open wide.

His eyes are shining, so bright, as he sighs, "I love you."

Lily's heart drops, and it's not because the stairs have finally clunked into place. She kind of just stares at him, frozen solid, while his brain catches up to what his mouth has said.

And like a pro, he laughs one more time and says, "Just kidding." Brushing it off like it didn't matter. Like he didn't even say it.

But he did.

And although he's careful not to make physical contact with her for the rest of the night, and glances at her smile all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, and barely lingers in the common room after he mumbles, "Night," Lily lies in bed into the latest hours of the night and replays the moment over and over in her head. He wasn't kidding.

James Potter is many things, but he isn't a liar.

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><p><strong>an:** welcome to the story, peeps. sorry for the late night/early morning/whatever-time-it-is-wherever-you-are posting, but at least this makes a nice surprise, right?

so if you're like me and browse/d iPod wallpapers for entertainment, you've probably seen this quote before. way back in may (which was when I wrote this chapter), a cord in me decided it was gonna be struck by this quote, and this four-shot was born. :) and it only just ended, meaning i finished the final chapter, this week, so... yeah. writer's block's a bitch.

i'll be posting every other day so you guys have something to look forward to for the next week or so, mkay? but don't kill me if i forget - i haven't not had homework in about a month. :/

what else... reviews are always appreciated, as you should know, and i guess i'll tell you that next up is ron and hermione! :D

thanks for reading, i hope you will/have enjoyed it.

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **i do not own harry potter or its characters. all rights belong to JKR. no copyright infringement is intended.


	2. i don't know

The Best Deceptions

ii.  
>(a little knowledge behind every)<br>"I don't know"

...

Ron and Hermione claim their usual spot in front of the fire not long after Harry's left. A third year is sitting in Harry's chair, but he and his friends heave resigned sighs and get up, leaving the two sixth years with the best armchairs in the common room.

"Ah, seniority." Ron grins. "Gotta love it."

Hermione rolls her eyes, but he can see that the corners of her mouth are upturned slightly. "Honestly, Ron…"

"What?"

"Grow up!"

"Why the bloody hell would I want to do that?" he says. "It's not like we're going to get much more time as kids anyway."

Realization of what he's really implying falls on both of them rather abruptly. Hermione bites her lip and looks at the floor; Ron doesn't even notice he's staring at her until he sees tears well up in her eyes.

"Hermione, I didn't mean to –"

"I know, Ron, I know," she says, wiping them away. "It's just…"

She meets his gaze, and it seems like the words are drawn from her mouth.

"What if I'm not good enough?"

Barely a whisper, he strains to catch it over the crackling flames and the noise made by the other Gryffindors, who are innocent, oblivious to the seriousness of their conversation. Ron looks at her, a little bemused.

"For what?" he asks. "Classes? Because if you're still going on about not getting all O's on your O.W.L.s –"

And again, it's the absence of volume that gets his attention more than anything else: He thinks that, in growing up in a house always full of sound, quiet has become bizarre to him.

"No," Hermione says softly. "It's not that."

He knows by her tone that whatever it is, it's been bothering her for a while now, so he keeps his patience and makes sure that it shows as he says, "Then what is it?"

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes.

"The war." Before he has a chance to respond, she rushes on: "I'm Muggle-born, and – and I panic under pressure, and I'm no good at healing spells and what if someone gets hurt and I can't save them? What if that someone is you or Harry and you –"

She cuts herself off and the unspoken word rings loud.

"You're scared," Ron says.

Slowly, opening her eyes, she nods.

It feels like he's reaching across a gaping chasm, but he leans over and takes Hermione's hand in his own, gives it a squeeze. She holds on tightly for a few moments – then she suddenly lets go as though electrocuted.

"Thank you, Ron," she mumbles, cheeks pink.

"Don't mention it," he mutters, feeling his ears go warm, his voice cracking slightly.

The moment passes and they sit in silence. Hermione stares into the fire and Ron, bored, takes out his wand and begins to twirl it between his fingers.

Soon, people start to trickle out of the common room and up to their dormitories. It's not long until Ron and Hermione have only a few studying fifth and seventh years for company.

Hermione jumps a little, looks around the near-empty room. Her eyes find the clock.

"Harry should be back by now," she murmurs, her eyebrows knitting together. "What's taking him so long?"

"Dunno," says Ron. A sudden surge of something he recognizes now as jealousy roars in him, and he discovers that he doesn't much care.

"I'm worried about him," Hermione continues, not seeing the look on his face. "Whenever I bring up next year, he doesn't say anything… Have you noticed that?"

"No."

"I have. Ron, I don't think Harry's coming back to Hogwarts next year."

Finally somewhat intrigued, he stops his wand-twirling long enough to cast her a glance. "Really?"

"Yes! He can't fight in the war yet, not on his own, not with only six years of school! And with…" She lowers her voice. "…with the prophecy, who knows what's going through his head?"

Ron grunts, and at last it seems to get through to her that he isn't particularly keen on this conversation. She quiets again, thinking, he knows.

"Where do you think you'll be in five years?" she asks, once it's just the two of them waiting up for Harry.

He drops his wand.

While he picks it up, fumbling it a little, he ponders his answer. Then he looks into her eyes. They're light brown, not quite hazel, with darker brown around the edges, always sparkling with a light of intelligence.

"I don't know," he says.

But in his mind, a vivid image forms: a half-dark room, sunlight just peeking through the curtains, her silhouette still, her breathing deep and even… He brushes a strand of hair away to caress her cheek and those eyes snap open… A smile grows on her face and she leans in…

He knows where he'd like to be.

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><p><strong>an: **happy valentine's day, everybody! or, if you're single, happy singles depression/forever alone day. just remember not to be sad - nobody loves you for the rest of the year, either. :P

so, i just realized most of these are pretty sad or slightly depressing. so. sorry for that, i suppose.

but, um, yes. more reviews would be lovely, but i'm not going to sit up and beg. i just appreciate your reading. :)

up next: remus and tonks.

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **i do not own harry potter. it belongs to jkr. no copyright infringement is intended.


	3. i don't care

The Best Deceptions

iii.  
>(a little emotion behind every)<br>"I don't care"

...

Remus pays no attention to what Dumbledore says during the Order meeting, though he knows he should. But he can only focus on one thing at a time, and it's taking all his willpower to stare at the table and only the table, never the heart-shaped face trying to attract his gaze from a few seats away.

His heart aches to do it, but it's for her own good, he tells himself. She wouldn't be happy with him, trapped with an animal who would never be able to control himself.

Then he wonders if he's the only one he's trying to convince.

"All right, then," Dumbledore says, clapping his hands together (wincing as his blackened hand makes contact with the normal one), "I suppose that covers everything. Would you like to add anything, Alastor?"

Moody's regular eye sweeps over them all, his magical blue one lingering a little longer on everyone's faces so that it falls behind.

"Constant vigilance," he growls. "If you find yourself in a situation with no way out… Well, lemme put it to you lot this way: Go out there and die for something, or I'll kill you for nothing."

He chuckles. So does Mundungus. They're the only ones.

"On that encouraging note," says Dumbledore; Remus thinks he might be the one person there who notices the undercurrent of real sarcasm in his voice, "you're all dismissed. Stay safe."

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Moody barks again above the sudden scraping of chairs. Nobody jumps except Dedalus Diggle.

Remus remains sitting, waiting for everyone – including her – to leave. Dumbledore, as usual, is last, and he places his good hand briefly on Remus's shoulder before sweeping out in a swish of blue robes.

Heaving a sigh, he makes to stand.

"Remus."

He tries to escape before she has the chance, but with a cry of "Wait!" she lunges for his wrist and sends them both crashing to the floor.

"Wait," Tonks repeats, scrambling to her feet, drawing her wand and pointing it at him. "Wait. You are going to _wait_ and listen to what I have to say, or else I'll hex you. Okay?"

Remus nods, sits up and scoots against the wall, a little winded from the fall.

"Okay," she says. She runs a hand through her hair, which is still stuck on mousy brown. "Okay. _Okay_."

For a few moments, they stare at each other.

"You didn't think of anything to say beforehand, did you?" says Remus.

"I honestly didn't think I'd get this far," Tonks confesses, forcing a small, nervous laugh. She lowers her wand and offers him her hand. He doesn't take it.

Rolling her eyes: "Come on, Remus, it's just a hand."

More easily than he would like, his brain accepts this logic, and the hand.

Tonks looks up into his face, her lips slightly parted, and Remus has to resist a mad urge to kiss her. He realizes quite suddenly that they're still holding hands. He struggles to pull away, but like Devil's Snare, this only makes her grip tighten.

"Let me go," he mutters. "Let me _go_."

"No. I won't let go. Ever."

"Let go of me."

"No."

"Tonks, _let me go_!"

Perhaps the sound of her name leaving his mouth is what does it; he knows it's why, a second later, as he's striding off, "Remus…" gives him pause. Just for the space of a heartbeat.

Apparently, this is long enough for Tonks's fingers to clasp around his wrist once more.

"I love you, Remus, why can't you see that?"

"I'm a monster," he says without turning. "I should be left _alone_."

"You don't believe that," Tonks says quietly. "You _can't_ believe that."

"I can, and I do. It's the truth."

He tugs, but to no avail.

"I love you," she whispers. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone."

"I don't care."

"Yes, you do!" she cries, twisting him around, seizing the front of his robes. "You do care! I can see it in your eyes, you want to be with me, too!"

And he does, he wants to be with her, he wants to kiss her, he wants it more than he's ever wanted anything in his entire life –

And with the speed and reflexes of a wolf, he _runs_, tail between his legs, and leaves Tonks standing there with her eyes closed, her lips puckered, her hair fading back to brown from bubblegum pink.

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><p><strong>an: **one and half starkid references in herr. one is blatant, and the other was going to be more recognizable but i decided to make it sound better. those are included cuz i wrote this one way back in june just a couple days after i watched starship. :P

so. um. yes. remus and tonks angst here. sorry for that, everyone. well, no, i'm not, but i'm sorry this is so... y'know, not cheerful at all.

reviews are always, always appreciated. even if you don't, thanks for reading. hope you're enjoying it. :)

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **i do not own harry potter. it belongs to jkr. no copyright infringement is intended.


	4. it's okay

The Best Deceptions

iv.  
>(a little pain behind every)<br>"it's okay"

...

Ginny's sure she's dreaming. She's lying in a soft bed, next to something – some_one_ – very warm. His fingers rest on the side of her neck, just below her ear, and his thumb ghosts over a gash on her cheek. He's staring at her. His breath is hot in her face.

_He's breathing_, she realizes, as his touch sparks her to consciousness, awareness of him and the scratches, burns, and calluses on his hands. _He did it. He saved us_.

Then her throat constricts and she puts all her effort into continuing to feign sleep, keeping her eyes closed to prevent herself from crying.

He hasn't saved all of them.

And of _course_ she's dreaming, of _course_ this is a nightmare; this can't be real, can't be true, can't have happened. It's too much to hope for that he's here and too hard to believe that he's gone and she wants to wake up, she needs to wake up, _he has to wake up_ –

She opens her eyes.

Harry's the first thing she sees, and right now he's about the most beautiful thing in the world, with the curtains of the four-poster drawn shut behind him and the sun trying to bleed through them; and it's funny, the only thing she's wondering is _what time is it?_

There's silence for a few moments and then, with strength she didn't know she possessed, she's holding back tears again as she realizes that it's not a dream and it's not a nightmare, this is real, his hand is really there, feather-light, on her face, and for another moment she just hurts in the bad way and in the good way all through her.

"Hi," he whispers, in a voice rough from lack of use. She contemplates, fleetingly, blowing up at him like he's no doubt expecting her to, but his eyes are still burning into her and they're all kinds of cracked and she can't pretend her heart isn't pounding for him, because they're so close he has to be able to feel it and she decides she just doesn't have the energy.

So instead it's just a murmured, "Hi," in reply, surprisingly steady; she notices their hands lying next to each other on the pillow, twists her still-aching wrist, and entwines their fingers. After a beat she says, "I missed you."

"I know," he says, and if he was anybody else it would come out very matter-of-fact (but he's not and it doesn't). "I missed you, too."

And then tears are shining through the cracks in his eyes and when he smiles, it's so _broken_ Ginny doesn't think she'll ever be able to fix it.

"I love you," he says then, keeping the tears at bay, and it's like some sort of apology, some kind of reasoning for his actions even though she's never needed an explanation less, never understood more.

"I know," she echoes, trying to match his tone. She brushes some of his hair away from his temple and forehead, her thumb skimming over his scar. She's pretty sure she's the only one Harry's ever let touch it. "I love you."

There's silence while she plays with his ear, traces the line of stubble growing on his jaw.

_"I'm sorry_," and he pulls her impossibly closer, bending around her like he's trying to absorb her, pressing his face into her shoulder and taking deep, slow breaths because he doesn't want her to see him cry.

And she wants to tell him not to be, that it's not his fault, that he's a hero, but he's not, still, he's Harry and he doesn't want to hear any of this, he just wants to hear her heartbeat and that –

"It's okay," she whispers, even though, right now – holding him as though he's split into pieces and she has to keep all of them together until the glue dries – knowing her brother is lying dead downstairs and her parents have to arrange a funeral for him – it feels like her life is _anything _but _okay._

"I love you," Harry repeats, and this time he's telling her to tell her so that she knows why it's okay – why he thinks it's okay, anyway – and she says it back and kisses him when he begins to shake and pretends she's not, too, because even a hero needs a little saving sometimes.

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><p><strong>an: **this one only took me a million tries to get right, but i ended up happy with this version - very happy with it, actually - even though i realize this might be the saddest of all four. okay, almost definitely is.

i think i've written too many harry/ginny reunions. but in my mind, this isn't exactly their first reunion, just their first somewhat-moderately-coherent conversation.

so. this marks the end of the story. happy midday-saturday update, everyone, and if you haven't reviewed yet, i would love you sososo much if you would on this last chappie.

thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i did writing it. :)

(i think i'm posting another h/g something later today, so if you want to read some mostly-fluff, look out for it. ;D)

~whispered touches

**disclaimer: **i do not own harry potter. it belongs to jk rowling. no copyright infringement is intended.


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